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by BofBanoff
Summary: Kate knows about Sawyer and AnaLucia. Sawyer wants Kate back but can he fix things? A KateSawyer story.
1. I fall to pieces

**Collapse**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lost**

_Why would I sabotage  
the best thing that I have?  
Well, it makes it easier to know  
exactly what I want with my  
hands open and my eyes open_

_Hands Open, Snow Patrol_

Ana-Lucia. He'd fucked her then she'd died. Not from him, he hadn't managed to turn le petit mort into le grand mort just yet, but it was mind-blowing nonetheless. He was her last. And it was a mindless fuck. He didn't want to be a milestone in anyone's life. Except for maybe one person. He wanted to be her last, her next, and her everything in between. But in the end his blood hadn't rushed to his head and he had turned to the nearest available woman. Rambina had always rubbed him up the wrong way, but he had expected her and Jack to be making sweet jungle love in a matter of weeks. He hadn't expected another burial, another death.

_Another one bites the dust._

The sex had released some tension, but there was no pleasure in it, just pure, animalistic need. He didn't feel any better. The tension, that dull ache, had grown even more, except now he felt a pang of guilt every time he thought of _her_. Kate. He didn't know why he cared, but his body betrayed him by bringing his stomach into his mouth every time he saw her.

She hadn't spoken to him since she found out. The most Sawyer had got from her was this one look, filled with pain and betrayal and disgust and disappointment. And then nothing. A blank look, which betrayed nothing and yet everything. Sawyer had always prided himself on being able to read Kate most of the time, mostly because she allowed him, however subconsciously, but now she made every effort to avoid him, or act like he didn't exist.

It was stupid, because neither of them had labelled the other _girlfriend_ or _boyfriend_, there was no _lover_, no _mine_. Yet they were inextricably linked, and the distance pained Sawyer more than he was willing to admit. He didn't need her. He didn't. But it didn't stop the longing looks he sent her, the silent apologies. Others in the camp had noticed the chilly change in their relationship, some knew why; others assumed Sawyer had fucked it up again, like he always did.

He knew he should be sad about Top Gun's death, but the only thing he was grieving for was _her_.

_Look at me_, he silently commanded, watching Kate wander along the shore, her head bowed. As if sensing him, she looked up, noticed him, before pointedly turned her head back to the sand.

This had gone on too long. He had acted like he hadn't cared, like nothing was wrong, but he missed her presence too much. Even her snapping at him was better than this accusatory silence. He jogged over to her and fell in pace with her.

"Nice day for a stroll, don't you think, Freckles?"

"Leave me alone Sawyer." Her perfectly controlled tone hinted at a buried anger, which Sawyer immediately latched onto. Anger, he could use. Blank silence, he could not.

"Be pissed off at me all you like, sugar, but at least talk to me. I got nothing to go on."

"Really? What a shame. I'm so sorry I didn't _consider your feelings_." The sarcastic tang in her voice hit Sawyer hard, out of nowhere. He wasn't used to things meaning anything to him, they usually reflected and bounced off. She took him out of his depth, into new, deeper ones that had the potential to be better than anything he had ever dreamed of but was turning out to puncture his hardened heart.

"It hurts you, doesn't it?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop pretending like you know me Sawyer. I don't give a flying-"

Sawyer grabbed her arm roughly towards him, bringing her close enough to feel his breath on the top of her head.

"I know you better than you think Freckles. I know that look on your face, that one where you think no-one's going to notice that you're about to die inside. I saw that look after you told me you killed a man, I see that look every night while you play with that damn plane and I'm seeing it now." His voice had become gravely, low and intense, and he held eye contact with Kate, staring into the mossy green depths, daring her to look away.

"Don't," she whispered throatily. It was a plea, but for what she wasn't quite sure. Not when those hypnotic blue eyes were boring a hole in her soul.

He was leaning in closer, too close, and she couldn't take it anymore. She took a step back, but Sawyer moved with her, bringing his other arm around her waist as if to prohibit further movement. So she did the only thing she could, she balled her fist up and punched him in the face as hard as she could.

He bent over from the blow, cradling his cheek. A little blood pooled in the corner of his mouth, but all Sawyer did was pant, and rose slowly to face her again.

"Ok," he started warily, "Can't say I didn't earn that, but…"

Kate noticed the crowd starting to form around them, the whispers between the survivors, and stepped back again.

"Just leave me alone, Sawyer," she pleaded wearily.

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm again, gentler this time.

"No." He looked around, before saying, "Come with me. I think a little privacy would be a damn good thing right now."

Kate pursed her lips, letting a hiss of air out. She stalked ahead into the jungle, and Sawyer followed her, his eyes gazing down her body, drinking in the way it swayed, lapping up every detail of her back, from the curve of her neck, down to the curve of her hip, and down further to her shapely legs. He was addicted, she was his drug, and he couldn't throw her away, couldn't give her up, not for anyone, not even for her.

He followed her meekly into the jungle, letting her lead the way, letting her take a modicum of control in this. Sawyer felt like he should have his metaphorical tail between his legs. He never followed women, never apologised to them, never made out that he was in the wrong. He'd wait for them to come begging back to him, or to disappear out of his life so he could find the next one night stand. There had never been anyone he'd cared about enough to stay, let alone to win back. He looked at Kate, and a deep, primeval longing ached in his gut. She should be _his_, however possessive and animalistic that sounded. He needed her, needed her to make everything alright, needed her to love him, needed her to be able to love.

She stopped and he started.

"I never meant to hurt you, Kate."

As always, saying her real name got her to look up. She was resisting with all her strength, because she was falling in love with him, but she hated him, hated him for this, and couldn't forgive him, not now, not ever. As she thought this she doubted it, one look at him and she wanted to run into his arms. She stubbornly dug her toes into the ground and stared wistfully into the distance.

"You never mean anything, _James_."

"I mean this. It just…happened. It didn't mean anything."

"Yes it does. You had sex with her, that means something."

"What, like all the other one night stands I've had have meant something? All it meant was that I needed a good hard fuck and she was the only one who would."

This wasn't coming out quite right, and Sawyer could feel himself getting more and more irate.

"I didn't mean – you think if I'd have come to you anything would have happened? That sort of thing has _only_ happened in my dreams and this isn't supposed to sound sappy so don't you dare think it is. You ever wonder why I'm so ratty in the mornings? You know how frustrating it is to be with you, to be around you, but not _be_ with you? Every second, of every day, that I don't spend thinking of you is not worth mentioning. I think of you on the ground, up against the tree, legs wrapped around me, the whole shebang. But I can't work out whether one fuck with you would be worth the relationship I have with you, whatever that may be."

"Our relationship? What relationship? If we ever had one, it's certainly gone now. All you had to do was choose Sawyer, but you couldn't. You strung me along, and I fell for it. You conned me, you used me for your own ends, but you could never make your mind up one way or another. And then you did choose. You chose her. You chose ten minutes of sexual gratification with Ana over anything you could have had with me. And you could have had _everything_ with me Sawyer. I don't know if you realise that, but you could. But you chose her. And now it's too late. This thing we had…it's done. It's over. You can't say you choose me now because she's dead and no one else will put out for you and I can't believe that you really mean it. I can't trust you Sawyer. I thought I could, but I was a fool. You think I wouldn't have "put out" for you? How the hell do you know? What, do you think I'm waiting for Jack to serenade me, woo me with candlelit dinners? You think that anyone else on this damn island makes me feel the way you do? You…you…"

Kate's voice had been steadily rising and as she ran out of words she panted. Her eyes were crinkled up with pain, her hair was dishevelled, and she was looking more and more beautiful. Devestatingly beautiful.

"I would walk to the end of the world for you." Sawyer's voice had become low and intense, and he shook slightly as the words sunk in, because they were true, and although he had known it he hadn't consciously known it.

"Then why couldn't you walk the extra mile to me?" Kate whispered, bringing a hand to her brow.

"I want you, Kate. Not just your body. I want every last bit of you, and tell me I'm selfish, tell me I'm a bastard, tell me I have no control over my dick, because it's true, it's all true, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you." He was breaking; he had thought he was already broken, but this was what it felt like to truly break, he could feel her slipping out of his reach, irretrievably, and this was his one last attempt to hold on. He was frantic, he was desperate, and only she could make things right.

"You had your chance-"

"No. Don't say that. Don't say that."

"I want you Sawyer, so badly, but I can't be with you if I can't trust you. Every time I think of Ana I think of you, you and her, until all I can see is you. You're tearing me up inside and I don't know how to fix it other than to-"

"To run away?"

Kate was openly sobbing now, her hands had become useless tissues and she gave up on trying to brush the tears away.

"To leave this. To leave you."

Sawyer turned away, because she was breaking his heart and he could feel the almost alien emotion of pure grief about to spill from his eyes.

"I've fallen in love with you," he said after a moments silence, the tears turning to grit in his throat.

"Don't."

He turned back around at that.

"Why not? You think I have anything left to lose? This may be the only time I can say it, so I'm saying it now."

"Why do you have to make this so hard?"

"You think I'm gunna make this easy for you when it's so hard for me? You are the one thing I've ever truly wanted, ever cared about, and I've fucked up again, I know, but I want to make it right, and I'll do that any damn way I can."

Something snapped in Kate and the sobs turned into full blown wails, and she slid down the tree trunk, burying her head in her drawn up knees. Sawyer knelt next to her, and lifted her head up.

"Tell me this isn't worth it. Tell me this isn't worth fighting for."

He brought his lips to hers, and held her hands so she couldn't push him away. He kissed her hard, desperately until she started to kiss him back, equally desperately. She wriggle a hand out of his grasp and brought it to his cheek, dragging her nails down to his throat as she fought to get closer to him. Her tears kept on falling, and she beat her hand against his chest as she sobbed, realising the futility of pushing him away, realising the price of this union. Sawyer kissed her cheek, her cheekbone, her neck, before planting soft kisses on her brow.

"Tell me this isn't worth fighting for," he repeated breathlessly, intently.

Kate paused, looking straight into his eyes. This was her last escape, her last attempt at freedom.

"I can't."


	2. To fall down or inward suddenly, cave in

**Chapter Two: **_To fall down or inward suddenly; cave in_

_I don't want to be the one  
The battles always choose  
'Cause inside I realize  
That I'm the one confused  
_

_Breaking the Habit, Linkin Park_

The tear tracks stuck to Kate's cheeks, trapping loose strands of hair. Her sobbing had ceased, but her body was still racked with the spent emotion, the aftermath as intense as the event itself. She could not look at him anymore, her eyes fixed on the ground, looking but not seeing. She had done it; she had caved in, she had undug her toes from the sand. She had revealed her feelings, irrevocably, and it was a relief, it was, but now there were so many possibilities, so many dead ends and dark alleyways, and the road was so hard to see clearly. Did she really want to take the journey, that one-way street to Sawyer, leaving Jack behind, leaving Tom behind? Because she knew that if she allowed herself to fall deeper and deeper in love with Sawyer then it would consume her, as it was consuming him, and what happened when there was nothing left to consume?

Would she be enough for him? He seemed so sure, so confident of what he felt, whilst insecurity and fear ran rampant in her mind. He was used to one night stands, a thousand different women, and how was she better, what made her different? Sure, there were less options on this island, but that would make it all the harder when he moved on. It was already hard, after Ana, and she hadn't given herself to Sawyer, not completely, not yet. She loved him, but oh how she hated him, hated how he made her feel.

"Speak to me, Kate."

Sawyer had stayed next to her, waiting for some kind of a sign. She had stopped crying, but now she was thinking, and what if she was thinking "_no_"? She'd admitted she couldn't turn away from this, and Sawyer swelled with hope and love, but fear deflated his happiness, fear that even after this she would turn away, run back to the safety of the beach, of space, of distance. He wouldn't let her, he decided; he wouldn't, not after this, not after the only chance for love he'd ever known had crept tantalisingly closer.

"I kissed Jack."

Her voice was small, her fists were clenched, and finally, finally she looked up.

Sawyer wondered who had made the phrase _punched in the gut_ so popular, because whoever it was deserved a damn medal for their accuracy. A strangled sound came out of his throat as he tried to digest the information, but it went down like bile.

All that he could force out was a whisper.

"_When_?"

It wasn't the question he meant to ask, or maybe it was, he wasn't sure. He wanted to ask "why", or "how", or maybe even a sharp "what?" because the bottom was dropping out of his world, she was falling from his reach again, and maybe if he knew the answers he could make some sense out of this. But he knew. Deep down, he knew.

Kate's eyelashes fluttered down, lightly brushing the moist skin below her eyes. Her voice was low, thick with guilt and shame.

"When you came back, I was so confused, Sawyer. I couldn't bear to be apart from you not even for a second, and I didn't understand it. I don't understand. I couldn't, I couldn't deal with it. But I _stayed_, Sawyer, I stayed."

Her uncertainty and need for justification made her hard to follow but the last sentence rang out clear as day. Sawyer had blurred memories of his convalescence, stolen moments of Kate's voice, her touch, in his mental captivity it had kept him going, had stirred feelings in him that he thought he had purged from his system.

"I seem to remember bein' pushed onto the floor and you running off, Freckles."

Kate grabbed her wrist with her other hand, and twisted her arms around, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Her words were jumbled and nonsensical, mirroring her thoughts.

"You weren't – Wayne, he – he started – I can't explain this."

Kate threw her hands up in the air in a surrender pose.

"Try," growled Sawyer, his eyebrows drawn tightly together, his eyes exuding raw pain. She had kissed him, kissed the one man that would hurt him that bit more. He needed to know, a perverse need that would bring nothing but pain and truth. Kate swallowed, reflecting his pain with hers.

"I didn't mean it, you know. To kiss him, I mean." Her voice was still small, quiet, upset, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I was talking to you, muttering, useless stuff." She smiled wryly. "I don't think I'm cut out to be a nurse. I fed you, held you, was the only one who could get the meds down you. I tried, Sawyer. I really did. I just - you were writhing in pain, and I couldn't stop it and I didn't know what to do!"

Her voice suddenly became higher, accusatory, and Sawyer felt that maybe, just maybe, she _did_ feel the same intensity as he did. The same panic, the same gasp for air when it's too late, you're already drowning. If he was drowning, she was too, and they'd go down together.

"I opened up to you. I didn't know if you could hear or not, but it was nice just to be able to talk for once, you know, with no one judging you, or looking at you funny. After I told Jack, about Tom, he never looked at me the same way again, and I couldn't handle seeing that same look on your face. I didn't want to see the pity in your eyes, because I don't deserve it, I don't want it, but I needed you to know, one way or another."

A lone tear carved a shiny path down her face, and Kate looked in Sawyer's eyes, completely miserable and desolate. He turned and rested his back against the tree trunk next to her. He picked up her hand, and idly played with her fingers. He didn't want to cause her so much pain, he didn't, but he needed to know, and they were so close, so close, to everything he had ever wanted, beyond that even. They could be so much more together, they could love each other so much, but not with masked truths. It wasn't even about secrets, he was confident that she would tell him her pre-island secrets in her own time, and trusted she'd allow him the same. But this was different, this was a very real threat, and Sawyer wanted to go and punch the living daylights out of Jack, one, two, three, hurt him until he could feel a fraction of the pain Sawyer felt, pour all the hurt and anger out into an easy target. But he restrained himself, for her, and listened.

She became silent, offering no more.

"Tell me the rest," he prompted her.

"You woke up, and you were Wayne," she stated simply, her voice dropping back into a whisper. "He was asking me why I killed him, and then it escalated, and I didn't know what was happening, who you were, and then he started strangling me…"

"_I_ started strangling you." Sawyer's thirst for truth was flooded with this revelation, and he turned his head away in horror. He abruptly moved his hand from Kate's and stood up, pacing back and forth.

"Those bruises – the ones on your neck – you told me that was that guy in the hatch, but it was _me_. _I _did that." He hit a nearby tree, sickened by his actions. The blow broke the skin, and Sawyer hissed at the pain. Kate jumped up, and covered his hand with hers, and she was close, so close, not close enough.

Her voice was steely, and this was more like the Kate everyone knew, the determined glint in her eye, the firm grip on her speech. "It was _not_ you Sawyer, because I know that you would never physically hurt me, never."

The conviction in her voice was so strong Sawyer wanted to believe it, badly, and his eyes widened as he looked into hers and saw nothing but truth.

But how could he know that was truth, when she had kept this secret from him for so long? He spun away, leaving Kate in confusion. She had known within a day of his and Ana's affair, yes, it was an affair because his heart was already bound to Kate's, but he hadn't had a clue about this. What else had she been hiding, what other lies had she told by masking the truth?

"Carry on with the story." His voice was gruff, his eyes stony, and Kate couldn't fathom the sudden change. She took a shaky breath, nursing her discarded hand as if she had been dealt a physical blow.

"I – I ran off, I just left you lying on the ground – do you know how many times I've gone over that in my head, how badly I feel about it? What if something had happened to you? I'd never have forgiven myself Sawyer. I ran, ran for God knows how long. When I stopped running, I kept walking. I couldn't get a straight thought out of my head. I bumped into Charlie, I saw that horse – and when I finally stopped, Jack came, shouting at me for leaving you. I shouted at him, but then he grabbed me, and I felt so claustrophobic, so trapped, and I tried to pull away, but he just held on tighter. I gave in, but I couldn't make sense of it, I just wanted my head – I wanted it quiet. I couldn't think properly, and I just wanted a second of peace. So I kissed him –"

"Wait, _you_ kissed _him_?"

"I just wanted it to stop, just for a moment. But it didn't help. If anything, it made things worse. So I ran, ran away like I always do." Her voice became bitter, self-deprecating, she hated reliving this to Sawyer, hated that she brought things up. "I felt like I was going insane."

She stopped at this point. Sawyer was staring at her, his eyes flooding with emotion, the likes of which she had never seen before. The intensity unnerved her, the raw pain and betrayal she saw in his eyes was the same as he must have seen in hers earlier, when he had been the one in the wrong. Kate narrowed her eyes, because she had almost forgotten the reason they were here in the first place, the reason why she felt like screaming and pulling out her own heart just to stop it hurting. She spat her next words out as if they burned just to feel them on her lips, and they did, they did, her feelings were burning her, and he was adding fuel to the fire, making her feel guilty when his crime had been ten times worse.

"You think that hurts? Huh? Well maybe you feel one tenth of what I feel." Her eyes were watering again, and Kate angrily swept a hand across them, her eyes red and raw, much like her heart.

It felt like they were scraping away the layers of their hearts, one at time, the pain almost too much to bear, but not as awful as the pain of not doing it, of walking away. It had come to this; they would have to rip each other to pieces before they could rebuild themselves.

There was silence, except for the distant hiss of the shore. The air was humid, and their clothes stuck to their skin. The air was suffocating, they were suffocating themselves through their secrets and mistakes, and now the truth was suffocating them in one last attempt.

"Why _him_? Why not Charlie, you said you saw Charlie, you could have –"

"I was confused, confused about what had just happened, but also confused about what I really wanted. Who I really wanted. Deep down, I knew I wanted you, but my mind was telling me I should love Jack. I was disorientated, and he was there. It only took one kiss, and I knew. Knew that there was only one person I truly wanted."

"I'm so sorry I'm not Saint Jack," Sawyer spat angrily. "You can't have both worlds you know. I can't be him. I'll never be him. But I love you, and I think you love me too, and that should be enough."

"Is it? Is it enough?"

Sawyer paused, unable to come up with an answer. Instead he asked her a question that had been burning the roof of his mouth and the tip of his tongue since they'd crashed.

"Why do you want Jack so much?"

"Why? Why shouldn't I want someone rational, someone easy to love, someone dependable, someone who loves me back?"

"If you wanted that you'd get a dog. And if Saint Jack is so easy to love, why do you keep coming back to me? You call me an asshole for having sex with Rambina, I call you a hypocrite for stringing me along whilst you go running back to Jack every time your conscience thinks you should. A dog is for life, not just for Christmas, and it's the same for people. You want Jack because he sees an ideal version of you, but you love me because I see _you_. And doesn't that scare you to death?"

In a moment of self-realisation Kate looked at him.

"It's because it scares me so much that I run to Jack."

"You can run all you like, but you can't hide. Not from me."

Kate came closer to him, her hair dishevelled, her eyes bright, her forehead creased. Her voice was hoarse from all the talking, yet Sawyer could hear the effort in it, the passion.

"I love you. I love you, and I hate you for it. This will never be easy, never-"

She pushed at him with her fists, and Sawyer enveloped them in his hands, drawing her closer, keeping her close, as he guided Kate against the tree they had been leaning against. He cupped her face with one hand, could feel her shaky breath warm on his skin. He leant his forehead against hers, and smiled gently. Her last words had given him a renewed hope. "This _will_ never", that suggested what he thought it did, right?

"I've tried to be strong, for so long," she started, her voice wavering with the strain the words had on her. "I thought I could survive without this, but ever since I met you I knew it was only a matter of time. I thought I could overcome it, I never wanted to depend on anyone, never believed I could love someone like this, never believed I could be loved like this-"

Sawyer pressed his lips against hers, firmly, persistently.

"But you are, Kate, God knows, you are."

A suppressed sob made its way out of Kate's mouth and she planted open mouth kisses on his cheek, his neck, the hollow where his neck and torso met, before grabbing his head and pulling him into her embrace.

"I can't forgive you for Ana, Sawyer," she sobbed. "I tried, I'm trying, but I _can't_."

Sawyer gripped onto her tighter, afraid she'd slip away.

"Do you love me? Could you stay with me despite that?"

Kate was still, then slowly nodded into his arms, ragged sobs shaking her entire body.

"Then for now, that's enough. I ain't exactly sure I can forgive you for kissing Jackass either, not straight away. Promise me you'll try, and I'll promise right back. Let me love you, baby, let me try."

Kate's legs finally gave way, and they sank together, to the ground, a bundle of limbs and heartache and love and hope amongst the deep green of the jungle around them.


	3. Through the darkness, into the light

**Chapter Three**

_Nobody said it would be easy,_

_No one ever said that it would be this hard_

_Coldplay, The Scientist

* * *

_

It felt like they would be there forever, caught in an endless circle of bitter truths and pointed fingers. They loved each other, that much was true, but how much, and for how long, and how much more? And how much could they withstand, how much truth could they take before the easy lies lured them back into the familiarity with which they were accustomed?

Two steps forward, one step back. That's what it felt like, progressing at a snail's pace, learning more but knowing less, becoming paradoxically both more and less certain of everything. There was only one thing that Sawyer was certain of, and that was that he loved her. He didn't know if they would last, he didn't know if they could last, he didn't even know if he was capable of lasting in a relationship. But he was certain of his feelings, for once. They were jumbled and messy but there was one overriding emotion, one that took all these fragments and loose ends and tied them up together. For better, for worse, that emotion was there, and Sawyer was doing something about it. He felt as if his heart would burst if she said no, walked away, and then the love that had so carefully crafted his emotions into one bundle would fracture, spilling his anger and confusion and lust and fear irrevocably out, sweeping out in it's entirety like a tidal wave, destructive and unstoppable. She held so much power over him, whether he liked it or not, and he hated that any person could have this over him, but it was _her_, it was her, and he could cope with that, as long as he could hold something of hers, her heart, her mind, her body, her soul. Who was he kidding? He didn't want something, he wanted everything.

He looked at her; _really_ looked at her. She was leaning against a tree, knees drawn up to her chin, a protective arm cradling her head, elbow completing the support system by resting on her knee. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were drawn to some distant place he could not follow. She looked drawn, exhausted, and he suddenly hated himself for putting her through this, hated that he loved her so damn much he couldn't keep away from her, couldn't help but cause her pain. Her expression was pained, like she was deep in thought, and it was moments like these that made Sawyer panic, because he had done all he could, he had opened his heart, no, he had ripped it out of himself and handed to Kate on a silver plate, and now he was vulnerable to her. All he wanted was for her to do the same, but he knew she wouldn't, not just yet at least. This constant reassessment of her feelings towards him, this insecurity, this fear, it was all fed by the silence and the withdrawal and Sawyer found himself tapping his thigh rhythmically. He forced himself to stop, and took a deep breath.

He clenched his hands into fists as he resisted the urge to bury himself in the crook of her shoulder, lose his hands in fistfulls of curly brunette hair, lose himself in eyes of green speckled with grey. They could be silver when she was happy, but those glints in her eyes were often steely grey. He wanted her to have the silver, oh how he wanted to put the silver there, but he was drawn to the grey like a moth to a flame. It was that grey that connected them, on a primal level, on a base level. It was the grey that told him _yes, I've been through shit too, I know too much, I've seen too much, and I can lie to myself, but the blame lies at my feet_. He wants to comfort her, _of course it's not your fault_, but how can he, when they are yet to have the conversation, yet to divulge their pasts. He can hug her, but hugs turn to kisses and kisses turn to fleeing on her side, which is why he's proud that she's still here, when she's so obviously distressed, but he's afraid of how far he'll go to make her stay, because he _needs_ her, needs her in a way that scares him.

He can't stand these silences. He was always more of a talker, sly jibes and slick clichés his arsenal, anyone who came close his targets. Of course, he wasn't adverse to good old-fashioned violence to settle things, but conversation was much more easily controllable and manipulative. "Gift of the gab", one of his relatives had told him he had, once, back when things had been happy. Oh, he wasn't naïve enough to think that things had been perfect back then, how could they have been, but he had had parents who loved him and cherished him and that was enough, sometimes. It was hard, though, to access these memories, when the overriding memory is that brutal scene all those years ago of his parents' deaths. Sawyer's frown deepened at the unexpected turn down memory lane, but couldn't shake off the melancholy sense that had swept over him.

As if Kate had physically sensed a change in him, she roused herself from her stupor and laid a comforting hand on Sawyer's arm, rubbing it up and down gently.

"You alright?" she asked tentatively, noting the deep creases in his forehead and his sagging posture. She had been submerged so deeply in her own turmoil she had excluded herself from his, and him from hers, without even realising it. She looked at him guiltily, knowing how silence increased uncertainty from her own experiences over the past few days. After she had given the cold shoulder to Sawyer following the revelation, he had left her be, for a while, and instead of giving her time to sort her head out it had actually doubled her fears and insecurities. The unpleasant associations of the past few days jolted her, and she went to pull away sharply. Sawyer had given no indication he had acknowledged her gesture until she tried to move away, and he grasped her hand on his arm, keeping it in place.

"Are you going to try to run every time you think about it?"

His voice was gravely, barely there, and his frown deepened further as he held her hand tighter in place. She was all that was tying him down, without her he felt her would float off back into his nightmarish past, so he held on as tightly as he would allow himself. She couldn't leave, she couldn't, but it was his fault she wanted to flee in the first place.

"I'm not running anywhere," Kate snapped defensively. Her voice had caught on the raw pain and fear bubbling inside her and she had to take a moment to force it back down. She continued in a softer, more subdued voice.

"I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Maybe in person, sweet cheeks, but not so much in spirit. Wanna let me in on what's spinning around that mind of yours?"

He was leaning against the tree, and the raw sexual power he exuded without realising made Kate's heart skip a bit. _How clichéd_, she thought, but it was true. When he wasn't trying to actively seduce her it was amazing much his body spoke to her; his arms calling for her body to hold, his lips looking for hers to kiss, his torso just begging to be touched by her fingers. Kate had to look away, it was hard to resist Sawyer on a physical level, especially when she was feeling like this, but then she was feeling like this because of Sawyer, and it was oxymorons like this which filled her with doubt and confusion.

"I never thought things would be like this when I was little." She had changed tack fairly abruptly, but she was wistful, and looked straight at Sawyer with a funny little half smile which intrigued him, because it was something new to him. He chuckled as he shook his head, because she was Kate, and there were so many things to learn about her, and every single new thing amazed him, and he stored it in his memory to peruse at a later date.

"What, survive a plane crash only to survive on a not-so deserted island with a bunch of misfits and one sexy Southerner?" He preened a little, smirking as Kate rolled her eyes. They were back to the banter, and he was comfortable again, he was in control. He thought. Oh, how these next few minutes would prove him wrong.

"Something like that," Kate smiled back at him tiredly. "How did we end up here?" Her voice trailed off, and it seemed like she was talking about more than just an ill-fated flight.

"I always thought that things would get better, they'd _have_ to, because what could be worse than whatever shit was happening at the time, right? But what really screws me up, is that _this – _this is the best I've ever had. You're the best I've ever had."

Sawyer scratched at his day-old stubble as he took in this remark. To be a superlative of any kind, to any one, well that was pretty huge. But like anything with Kate, there always seemed to be a thorn to accompany the roses.

"Why does it screw you up so, Freckles?" _It's me, isn't it,_ he adds silently, his glare conveying everything. _If it was Saint Jackass you were in love with, this would be so much easier on you._ It scared him how he was just accepting that Kate was in love with him, in love with him the same way he was in love with her, the way he'd never thought he'd be able to love anyone, ever. But her words – is he the best she can do? Is she dismayed that she can't feel what she feels for me for Jack?

"Why does it screw me up? Look at us, Sawyer! If we were any more dysfunctional…" Kate trailed off and blew air through her pursed lips. "We fight every time we talk, we take a perverse pleasure in one-upping the other, every time I try to trust you you have to just – just – just _shatter_ it, and me? All I want is to be close to someone, but as soon as anyone gets near, I run in the opposite direction. What a great team we make, huh?"

She finished her speech through angry tears and she tilted her chin up towards Sawyer in a defiant pose which he matched with one of his own.

"Don't you _want_ to make this work?"

Sawyer looked at her warily, disappointment and disgust weaved in.

"Of course I do," she whispered. "But why does it have to be so _hard_?"

"Hard? _Hard_? Freckles, you should know as well as I do, you don't get something for nothing in this world. You think love would be any different? Maybe it is, for other people, but not for us, and you need to accept that. Hell, I accept that I ain't the easiest person in the world to get along with but I'm tryin', you know that. So what's your problem princess? Would you prefer to bury your head in the sand until I go away? Because I'm not going anywhere, and you're going to have to face it sooner or later."

"I _am_ facing it," she shot back abruptly. "I'm here, you're here, we're talking about it. Stop talking shit. Stop making out that this is _my_ fault. You slept with her, remember?"

"I'm sorry," Sawyer said contritely, and he meant it. "I didn't want tomake outthat, or bring Rambina up again. But you have got to stop throwing that damn woman in my face every time we fight, or we're not going to get anywhere. I want you, Kate. I'm not going to mess about with that. But what we have, we got something worth _fighting_ for. Don't you think?"

Kate looked up at his face, so intensely serious and passionate, and she knew that all was lost.

"I haven't had a proper boyfriend in so long," she offered, grinning shyly. "Don't think you're going to get me into your pants straight away either."

Sawyer smiled, a full, toothy, dimpled smile.

"That's what all the ladies say…"

TBC


	4. It's not easy

**Collapse**

**Chapter Four**

_People in love get scared and stupid  
People in love get everything wrong  
At least they're not lonely_

_The Feeling, Never Be Lonely

* * *

_

They walked back to the beach slowly, saying nothing, thinking everything. The silence wasn't as oppressive any more, the tension had almost completely dissipated, and it felt as though they had turned a corner, finally. Their talk in the jungle would stay with them forever, but at the same time it was done, it was finished, they had gotten the heartbreak and fear and declarations out of the way and the air felt fresher to both. The wind softly rustled the leaves and the chirping of the cicadas leant the atmosphere a relaxing feel to it.

They were walking together so close they were almost touching, but not quite. Every so often their hands would brush against each other and send a tingle of electric heat up their arms. They were quite happy for once to not push this, to let it happen naturally, to just revel in the unexpected touches. The foliage was getting denser and a fallen tree obstructed their way just enough that they would have to break their current pattern. Sawyer could see that Kate had already found the best way to get over it but he beat her to it, using both of his hands to propel himself onto the trunk and lift his feet onto the rough bark. He pushed the long grass surrounding them back like a curtain, and offered his hand to Kate. He couldn't help grinning at her when she took his proffered hand, using her other one to gain some leverage on the trunk until she was standing with him. Sawyer let the curtain of grass fall, and they found themselves surrounded by the dark green of the other trees from above, and the lighter long grass from below. The sun streaked through the foliage in stripes, highlighting Kate's curls, her flat stomach, Sawyer's stubble, his muscular upper arms. They were in a world where only they existed, a world where battles had been won and lost by both sides, a world only they knew.

Kate slipped her delicate hand into his, intertwining fingers as scattered light danced over them. He stroked her thumb gently, and after the heartache and heartbreak and pain and anger the unconscious softness of their actions was sublime. She looked up at him, unsurprised to see him looking intensely back at her, and as he leaned in to kiss her she smiled, her curved mouth pressing against his. They were broken, they were fixed, it didn't matter, because all that mattered was the moment, the here and now. The wind swept through their hair, sending it flying out until Sawyer cupped Kate's hair, preventing movement, and drawing her ever closer to him. Her fingertips grazed the toned muscles the wind exposed under his shirt and Sawyer shivered deliciously.

"You're killing me, you know that Freckles?"

Kate just kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. This carefree side to her was kept hidden all too much and Sawyer revelled in the unexpectedness of it, especially after the heavy, draining conversation of earlier. But to point that out to Kate would be to make her withdraw and the way her fingers were lightly grazing up and down his chest made it impossible for Sawyer to ever want to stop.

Until the voices of Jack and Sayid were upon them, too quickly to register, not until Jack pushed back the other side of the tree bough, engrossed in his strategy sharing with the former soldier, not until he looked at the both of them, stopping dead in his tracks, his words faltering and dying on the ever-present wind. He looked at Kate and Sawyer together, together as a couple, together intertwined in an embrace, together happy and serene, and then changed the atmosphere by dropping a boulder into the hearts of them all.

Sayid's voice floated in behind them, outside of the hideaway, but none of them spoke, moved, rooted to the tree trunk they stood on. Jack's face glared at Kate in betrayal, and Sawyer held her waist, gripped it tighter. He looked at her looking back at Jack, terrified she'd run straight back to him, terrified that his insecurities were still so strong when it came to her, terrified that the look on her face was apologetic, as if this were a mistake. Kate and Jack were looking at each other, and Sawyer was looking at the both of them, but no one was looking at Sawyer.

No one except Sayid. He'd seen that look before, seen it on himself, seen it when Boone had burst in on him and Shannon, all burning rage and deathly jealousy. Knew the irrational fear, the kind that tightened your heart and you compensated by tightening you grip on the one you love. He knew he had no place in this lover's tiff, that this triangle needed to be flattened once and for all, but still, he could not move for fear of breaking the silence that had invaded the jungle.

Jack and Kate were looking at each other, and he wondered who would be the first to speak, it was inevitably one of them, Sawyer knew it wasn't his battle to fight.

"I love him."

It was Kate who broke the silence, staring challengingly at Jack, holding onto the hands that cupped her waist tighter, her knuckles turning white. She wanted to run, she could feel the claustrophobia bubbling up inside, burning her lungs, and the adrenaline pumped its way through her, and Sawyer could feel her shaking slightly. It was fight or flight, but she wasn't giving herself that last option, he could feel it, his Kate, so strong, and if a comforting hand would help her in this inevitable confrontation, then he would cut it off and give it to her if that's what she needed.

"How can you love someone like that?"

Sawyer reminded himself that Jack was hurt and angry and lashing out, but by God if Kate hadn't been clutching his hands so tightly around her his fists would have been flying. How dare he thrust confusion and doubt into her mind, when he'd worked so hard to take it off her shoulders? How dare he act as if he was better than he was, than she was?

Kate laughed bitterly.

"I'd have given anything to be in love with you at one point. You knew that, didn't you? You were everything I wanted to be, so kind and caring and strong. But you're not, are you? Not all the time. You put up that front, but underneath you're jealous of Sawyer, you're angry at John, you have this insane need to be in control all of the time, and because you're a doctor and everybody looks up to you you think you're entitled to everything: save the day and get the girl. Well, I'm not for you to have. I can't choose who I fall in love with, but at the end of the day, I love him Jack. He's a good man. All you can do is point out my flaws-"

Jack protested angrily at that.

"I have never said anything-"

"Maybe not in words, but in looks you've said a thousand. All I feel from you is your disapproval, and I can't be with someone like that. Sawyer has his flaws, and so do I, but we can see past that, and you can't."

Sawyer was pressed up behind her, arms circling her waist by this point, and he could feel her trembling with the fear and hurt. This was the end of the line with Jack; whether he would jump a track and one day restore the rift was yet to be seen, and the possible finality of this friendship with Jack scared Kate, yet she was thrusting her security blanket away, in mind and deeds. Sawyer loved her all over again in that moment.

"You can look past the fact that not a week ago he was fucking Ana-Lucia on the sly?"

He had hit a nerve, and he knew it. She couldn't forgive, not now, not when it was all so raw and fresh, and how could she defend her lover if she couldn't defend him to herself?

It was surprisingly easy.

"That's between me and Sawyer. And if I can get over it, you sure as hell can. Stop looking for excuses. I know you don't want this to happen, but you can't stop it happening. We're not perfect, but you're the only one who cares."

Jack's face twisted up into a sneer.

"Cares? If you don't care about whoring yourself out to this scum bag I sure as hell don't. We're done. Look after yourself. I'm done trying to help you."

Kate's voice was getting higher with indignation and her eyes flashed with anger and hurt.

"Trying to help me? Or trying to change me? Because you can't, Jack, you can't."

"Well that's for damn sure," he muttered, squinting his eyes and biting his lips.

"Goodbye Kate."

He brushed past the couple, perhaps purposefully knocking against them as he stalked off, rendering them off balance. Sawyer gripped Kate's waist tighter still as the momentum twisted her around. Her head was facing his chest, and she pressed her cheek against the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head, only acknowledging Sayid with a nod as he passed.

Kate's breathing hitched more than once, but she wasn't crying, and soon enough she looked up at him, all wonder and aftershock.

"I did it."

"Damn right you did."

"He just- he looked so hurt, Sawyer. I never wanted to hurt him."

She was upset, but so was he, how could he call her a whore and still have her sympathy? She looked longingly at the trail Jack had followed, and Sawyer tore away from her in disgust. The sudden chill startled Kate.

"What?"

"He called you a liar and a whore and you still want to run after him. You will never be good enough for him, Kate, never. He always sees you in his mind as this perfect creature who never does any wrong and you will never be able to live up to that. So why do you keep trying? Is the thought of me so bad-"

He broke off, swallowing deeply.

"-so bad –"

"Stop it. Stop it, ok? You think I can turn my feelings off like a switch? I want that approbation Sawyer, I want it, I won't deny it. I wish I didn't, but I do. It doesn't change my feelings towards you at all, and if you don't believe that, then you don't know me at all."

Sawyer's eyes glittered dangerously as he moved closer to her, invading her personal space, pushing to see how close he could get before she ran. But Kate stood her ground, chin pointed towards him defiantly. He captured her lips roughly, pouring all of himself, all of his fear, his hurt, his anger, pouring all of it into the kiss. He pushed one hand into her curly locks, pulling her head closer to him. She cried out slightly at the sudden pain, but he ignored it, too needy himself. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to her level. They kissed as they fought, passionately and desperately.

Kate pulled away from him quickly, and turned and walked away from him. She was still panting slightly by the time Sawyer had recollected from the sudden movement and had caught up to her. He grabbed her hand roughly, pulling her around.

"What the hell is going on, Freckles?"

She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip. He only held on tighter, which made Kate struggle all the more, she was pleading with him to let go, her voice was catching, tears were forming, but still he held on, not letting her go. Kate was getting more and more worked up, the panic that had been bubbling inside her all day finally breaking free and turning into hysteria. Sawyer tried to move in and grab her flailing body, still it, but she wasn't thinking anymore, she was just feeling, and all she could feel were restrictions and smothering bonds. She lashed out, and her fist connected with his jaw, the force of it knocking him backwards, away from her.

"Son of a bitch!"

Kate became more lucid at Sawyer's exclamation, and her eyes widened at the realisation of her actions. She murmured a tearful apology, before turning away from him and walking rapidly, blindly, away from him. Sawyer was nursing his jaw, a little stung by her sudden violence, but ran after her, not caring about her reaction, a deep need to not let her get away from him overriding his other emotions. He grabbed her by the hand, forcing her around. A grip hard enough that she'll have visible bruises there tomorrow in the form of fingers, a matching tattoo to his.

"No. You do not get to run anymore."

"Sawyer." It's a plead, a need to just be able to breathe again, to let her escape. But he can't, can't give in to her, not when it could mean the end of this, the constant avoidance she will no doubt dance to perfection.

"How can I trust that you won't run off to Jack, Kate? You told me it meant nothing, but it so obviously does."

"I kissed him once, Sawyer. That was it. Now let me go."

She pulls away roughly, but he's two steps ahead of her and she runs smack into his chest.

"It's not fair, Kate. It's not fair that you can keep secrets like that from me when you read me like a book. I'm supposed to be the conman. But you're the one who can look right into me and steal my secrets whilst giving no indication about any of yours."

"Maybe I'm a better secret keeper."

"Maybe you're a better liar."

That hurt, but she didn't deny it.

"How can we think this can ever work?" she whispered desolately to his chest, not daring to make eye contact.

"Because it can. If you let it. I thought you wanted this, Freckles. A few minutes ago everything was top o' the world good. It's not easy, you know that, but you said it was worth it, you said, remember?"

He looked at her, pointing her chin up so she would look back.

He whispered words only for her ears. Words of reassurance, of defiance, of love. She wasn't easy to convince, but then easy was never usually worth the end result.

"Let's go back," Kate suggested, and Sawyer smiled.


End file.
